She took a step closer. "What did he do? Did he threaten you? Scare you?"
"No! I don't want to talk about this," he said. He turned for the door and reached for the knob. She grabbed his arm to stop him, pushing her face close to his. His muscles tensed before relaxing.
"He did, didn't he?" she pressed.
"I can't talk about this." He hesitated. "He . . ."
Though she'd suspected that both Logan and Nana were right, though her own intuition had prompted her to come here in the first place, she felt something crumple inside when Adam confirmed it.
"What did he do?"
"I can't tell you. You should understand that more than anyone. You know how he is. He'll . . ."
He trailed off, as if suddenly realizing that he'd said too much.
"He'll what?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. He's not going to do anything." He stood straighter. "It didn't work out between us. Just leave it at that."
He opened the door. He paused, drawing a deep breath, and she wondered if he was about to change his mind.
"Please don't come back," he said.
Beth sat on her front porch in the swing, staring at the sheets of rain coming down, her clothes still wet. For the most part, Nana left her alone with her thoughts, intruding only to hand her a cup of hot tea and a warm, homemade peanut-butter cookie, but she'd been uncharacteristically silent when she'd done so.
Beth sipped the tea before realizing she didn't want it. She wasn't cold; despite the relentless downpour, the air was warm and she could see fingers of mist crawling along the property. In the distance, the driveway seemed to vanish into the grayish blur.
Her ex would be here soon. Keith Clayton. Every now and then, she'd whisper the name, making it sound like a profanity.
She couldn't believe it. No, scratch that. She could--and did--believe it. Even though she'd wanted to slap Adam for being such a wimp about the situation, she knew she couldn't really blame him. He was a nice guy, but he wasn't, nor had he ever been, the kind of guy who would have been picked first for a pickup basketball or baseball game. There wasn't a chance that he would have stood up to her ex.
She only wished Adam had revealed how Keith had done it. It was easy to imagine; she had no doubt Adam rented his office from the Clayton family. Almost every business downtown did. Did he play the rent card? Or the "we can make life difficult for you" card? Or did he play the law enforcement card? How far had the man been willing to go?
Since she'd been sitting outside, she'd tried to figure out exactly how many times it had happened. There weren't that many, maybe five or six, she thought, that had ended in much the same sudden, inexplicable way it had ended with Adam. That was counting Frank, which was what? Seven years ago? Had he been following her, spying on her, that long? The realization made her sick to her stomach.
And Adam . . .
What was it about the men she picked that made each of them roll over and play dead the moment Keith intervened? Yes, they were a powerful family, and yes, he was a sheriff, but whatever happened to being a man? Telling him to mind his own business? And why didn't they at least come to her and tell her? Instead, they'd slunk off with their tails between their legs. Between them and Keith, she hadn't had the best of luck with men. How did that saying go? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me? Was it her fault for picking such disappointing men?
Maybe, she admitted. Still, that wasn't the issue. The issue was that Keith had been working behind the scenes to keep things exactly the way he wanted. As if he owned her.
The thought made her stomach roil again, and she wished that Logan were here. Not because Keith would be here soon to drop off Ben. She didn't need him for that. She wasn't afraid of Keith. She'd never been afraid of him because she knew that deep down he was a bully, and bullies were quick to back down when anyone stood up to them. It was the same reason Nana wasn't afraid of Keith. Drake, too, had sensed that, and she knew he'd always made Keith nervous.
No, she wanted Logan here because he was good at listening, and she knew he wouldn't interrupt her rant, or try to solve her problem, or get bored if she said, "I can't believe he actually did that," a hundred times. He would let her vent.
Then again, she thought, the last thing she wanted was to talk the anger out of her system. It was much better to let it simmer. She needed the anger when she confronted Keith--it would keep her sharp--but at the same time, she didn't want to lose control. If she started screaming, Keith would simply deny it all before storming off. What she wanted, however, was for Keith to stay out of her private life--especially now that Logan was in the picture--without making Ben's weekends with his father any worse than they already were.
No, it was better that Logan wasn't here. Keith might overreact if he saw Logan again, even provoke Logan to action somehow, which could be a problem. If Logan so much as touched her ex, he'd find himself in jail for a long, long time. She had to talk to Logan about that later to make sure he understood how the deck was stacked in Hampton. But for now, she had to handle her little problem.
In the distance, headlights appeared and the car seemed first to liquefy, then solidify as it approached the house. She saw Nana peek through the curtains, then pull back. Beth rose from the swing and stepped toward the edge of the porch as the passenger door swung open. Ben scrambled out holding his backpack and stepped into a puddle, soaking his shoes. He didn't seem to notice as he trotted toward the steps and up to the porch.
"Hey, Mom," he said. They hugged before he looked up at her. "Can we have spaghetti for dinner?"
"Sure, sweetie. How was your weekend?"
He shrugged. "You know."
"Yeah," she said. "I know. Why don't you go inside and change? I think Nana baked some cookies. And take off your shoes, okay?"
"Are you coming?"
"In a few minutes. I want to talk to your dad first."
"Why?"
"Don't worry. It's not about you."
He tried to read her expression, and she put her hand on his shoulder. "Go on. Nana's waiting."
Ben went inside as Keith rolled down his window a couple of inches. "We had a great time this weekend! Don't let him tell you any different."
His tone was full of an airy confidence. Probably, she thought, because Logan wasn't around.
She took another step forward. "Do you have a minute?"
He stared at her through the crack before he slipped the car into park and shut off the engine. He pushed open the door, stepped out, and ran toward the steps. Once on the porch, he shook his head, sending a few drops of water flying before grinning at her. He probably thought he looked sexy.
"What's up?" he asked. "Like I said, Ben and I had a great time this weekend."
"Did you make him clean your kitchen again?"
The grin faded. "What do you want, Beth?"
"Don't get sore. I just asked a question."
He continued to stare at her, trying to read her. "I don't tell you what to do with Ben when he's with you, and I expect the same courtesy. Now what did you want to talk about?"
"A few things, actually." Despite the disgust she felt, she forced a smile and motioned to the porch swing. "Would you like to sit down?"
He seemed surprised. "Sure," he said. "But I can't stay long. I've got plans this evening."
Of course you do, she thought. Either that, or you want me to think that you do. The kind of reminder that had been typical since their divorce.
They took a seat on the swing. After sitting, he jiggled it back and forth before leaning back and spreading his arms. "This is nice. Did you do this?"
She tried to keep as much distance between them on the swing as she could. "Logan put it up."
"Logan?"
"Logan Thibault. He works for Nana at the kennel now. Remember? You met him."
He scratched his chin. "The guy that was here the other night?"
As if you don't know. "Yes, that's him."
"And he's okay w
ith cleaning cages and scooping up crap?" he asked.
She ignored the obvious dig. "Uh-huh."
He exhaled as he shook his head. "Better him than me." He turned toward her with a shrug. "So what's up?"
She considered her words carefully. "This is hard for me to say . . ." She trailed off, knowing it would make him more interested.
"What is it?"
She sat up straighter. "I was talking to one of my friends the other day, and she said something that just didn't sit right with me."
"What did she say?" Keith leaned toward her, alert.
"Well, before I tell you, I just want to say that it was one of those rumor mill things. A friend of a friend of a friend heard something, and it eventually got passed on to me. It's about you."
His expression was curious. "You have my attention."
"What she said was . . ." She hesitated. "She said that in the past, you've followed me on my dates. And that you told some of them that you didn't want them to date me."
She made a point not to look directly at him, but from the corner of her eye, she saw his expression freeze. Not only shocked. Guilty. She pressed her lips together to keep from blowing up.
His face relaxed. "I can't believe it." He drummed his fingers on his leg. "Who told you that?"
"It's not important." She waved off the comment. "You don't know her."
"I'm curious," he pressed.
"It's not important," she said again. "It's not true, is it?"